


A Slice of Life

by azure112



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bookstores, Card Games, Developing Friendships, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, Insecurity, Online Relationship, Other, Reminiscing, Routine, Scotty and Marcel are coders, Study Date, UNO, friendships, long distance, part time jobs, travelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29194437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure112/pseuds/azure112
Summary: High school is never what anyone would have thought it would be. It's strenuous, but also somewhat simple. Not everything is filled with gloom, and it's the little things that count.A collection of oneshots set in a Highschool AU
Relationships: Brock Barrus/Brian Hanby, Evan Fong/Jonathan | H2ODelirious, Marcel | BasicallyIdoWrk/Scotty | fourzer0seven
Comments: 9
Kudos: 26





	1. Unspoken Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the sun begins to fall beneath the horizon line, and the world turns quieter still, a soft melody starts to play, unheard and unheeded. That's all it needs to be; a secret.

Evan liked playing the guitar. He enjoyed picking the strings in a mindless manner, creating soft melodies with a grace that many would envy. Unpleasant sounds were hard to come by, and that just made the whole process all the more enjoyable. He could unwind after a long day at school by playing the instrument, putting off the constant strain of work by clearing his mind, and basking in the melodies.

His music life was very much a private one, hidden away from his parents' grandiose expectations and his friend's lighthearted interactions. As someone who had so much to live up to, and so many to impress, it felt like an escape of sorts for his impossibly busy schedule. It wasn't like he minded taking all of the science subjects due to his family's subtle persuasion, or being a good friend to everyone he seemed to meet. He enjoyed studying hard, slaving away for hours at an assignment before eventually accepting the satisfaction of a job well done, and he absolutely loved hanging out with his friends, laughing with ease in their presence and making more memories than he had ever thought he could. He didn't need an escape from any of that. He just also liked having something for himself, to enjoy alone, when no one else was watching.

And, a part of the secrecy may have also come from a place of shame; the simple belief that his work wouldn't be good enough. It was no more than a simple hobby, but what was the point of showing it off if no one would have been impressed? It wasn't like Evan to be nervous about skill or talent, but he was just so satisfied with the joy he received from playing for no one but himself, at his own leisure, at a slow pace. He didn't want critique to dampen that joy. So, he was happy to live isolated in this world of music and melodies.

His friend, David, could play the guitar far better than he could ever manage, as he had seen during one hangout, when the whole group had visited his house for the very first time. As the sheer excitement to play the newest, top tier videogames or banter about endlessly in the comfortable presence of each other's company died down, the room grew quiet, and David had caught sight of the instrument in the corner, tucked away in the dark. Without a second thought, he had picked it up for a performance, and boy, what a performance it was. Evan could remember the shock on Tyler's face, and the wonder in Brock's eyes as he began to pick at the strings, quietly singing a song they hadn't yet heard. Brian had wasted no time in wrapping an arm around his neck and shoving him down underneath his weight, playfully ruffling his hair as he asked him where he had learnt to play. It was that evening when Evan had learnt that a flair for music was more common in the group than he had initially thought.

There was also Brian. A loudmouthed Irishman who was surprisingly good at putting together a beat. He had illicitly recorded some of the dumb things that David had said while playing videogames after school, eventually sending a three minute remix in the group chat as a joke. Evan couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but he was fairly certain that he had found his friend's anonymous account on spotify, every so often putting out music that Evan could have genuinely enjoyed for hours on end. He never really confronted Brian on the matter, but he swore that he had heard his own voice somewhere in the mix.

It had shaken Evan's confidence up ever so slightly, knowing that his friends were indeed better than he thought he himself was at the time. He was mostly self taught by that point, quite enjoying figuring things out himself rather than obtaining a mastery in the art, which he knew he could easily do. He had learnt the fundamental basics, but the rhythms and the chords were a feat that he had achieved all on his own. It had been a fun little challenge as he sat down in his bedroom, hours after he was meant to be asleep, quietly plucking away at every string until he had found something he was happy with.

He promised himself that this wasn't a passion he was going to pursue. However, with every evening and every night, as he strummed his strings in a lazy manner, music became a pastime he was struggling to deny. The nagging urge to share the sounds tugged at him often, and he always spent five minutes every morning to consider picking up the instrument before heading off for school. It never did happen, and Evan was fairly certain that it never would. The guitar remained discarded at the side, tucked away in the darkness, completely disused until the witching hour drew near. Unheard, unheeded, until the light had bled out of the sky.

And it stayed that way for a very long time. When things finally changed, it had already been a full year.

It was in the late evening when Evan found himself seated at his desk, staring idly at the opened books that surrounded him on all sides. His phone was turned on, connected to another through a call. It was somewhat incredible, how this little device was able to bring him so close to someone who lived on the other side of the country. But for many reasons, he was glad that it did.

Evan was talking to Jonathan, an online friend he had made almost five years earlier, having come across one another in an online game of warzone. He wasn't sure why out of the hundreds of players he would come across, Jonathan of all people had decided to stay. However, he was glad that he did.

At first, they maintained their online aliases; Evan being Vanoss, and Jonathan being Delirious. During their first game together, Evan had wound up killing Delirious multiple times, making sure to insult the other every time that he fell victim to a shot. And, Delirious had done the same, shooting back half baked insults so bad, they were funny, and Evan couldn't help but laugh. The mike he used was uncharacteristically bad, but it somehow added to the charm. A few days later, when he had heard the static pick up once more, he was quick to realise that he was playing with the same guy once again, this time on the same team. He sent a friend request, and left it at that.

Eventually, they began to talk some more, firstly starting off by discussing their favourite videogames. Somewhere along the lines, they began confiding the constraints of school on one another, before bringing up friends and family. Something about being given too much work, or having too much to live up to, or being annoyed at a person in school. As someone who they would likely never meet, it was easy to confide fairly personal information in one another. They knew the best advice to give on most matters, given that they were about the same age living under similar circumstances, and it wasn't like they would have been able to do any harm with those vulnerabilities anyways, which was an added benefit.

When they had first shared their real names, about six or seven months down the line, Evan had been quick to ask about appearance, curious as to what his friend looked like. As in, who was the person behind the scenes, the sweet heart psychopath with the most villainous laugh he had ever heard. Delirious, who he had just learnt to be Jonathan, quietened significantly as he denied the request, before explaining his insecurities. Evan didn't voice his disappointment, and never brought it up again. The fear in his voice brought about a heartache he was unwilling to bear.

Now, so many years later, it had posed no issue to either of them. They called often, assigning a time a few hours ahead to make sure that they weren't disturbing. Today, Evan had called Jonathan, and together, they were chipping away at their assignments.

"Calculus is the worst…" Jonathan murmured under his breath, and Evan smiled as he heard the calculator get slammed against his desk.

"I dislike geometry. It's easy, but it takes forever to do." He contributed, and Jonathan hummed in exasperation from the other side.

"What's your favourite subject? You take a lot of them, right?"

"Yeah. I enjoy physics. I like being able to take the nonsense numbers, and have them make sense in the context of the real world." Evan smiled. "The teacher's a pain in the ass to deal with, but I manage. I get to see Brian quite often, which is a minus, but he pulls some pretty awesome pranks like every class."

"Fun. You two are a menace to society." Jonathan chuckled. He'd never met Brian, but Evan talked about his friends often enough. "I enjoy psychology. Luke says that someday I'll find out what's wrong with my brain."

"I believe in you!" Evan laughed, and Jonathan chuckled in response. Chattering like this was pretty unhelpful for completing their work, but it was definitely more fun being able to cross check with one another instead of patiently awaiting a bad grade. All his other friends were busy elsewhere that evening anyways, so hanging out with Jonathan was not a bad thing in the slightest.

"I think I'm done." Jonathan announced, his voice being followed by the sounds of pages being flipped. The calculator was shoved onto the desk with a soft thud, and Evan chuckled softly as he listened to his friend celebrate in near silent victory. He had been done for a few minutes by then, simply waiting for Jonathan to finish up as well.

"Awesome," he smiled, quickly glancing at the time. It was still pretty early, way earlier than he had thought it would be. And, that in itself called for a moment to relish in the freedom they had suddenly just received. "Do you want to play GTA together? My friends made some weird mods that I kinda wanna check out."

"Sure, that sounds fun." Jonathan spoke, a smile evident in his tone of voice. "I'm gonna go get something to drink real quick, and then I'll go ahead and set up my computer. Be right back!" Evan paid no mind as he said goodbye, getting the game up and running on his own PC as he waited. One of these days, he was going to get them all to play together. He had asked Jonathan a few times already, always being refused for reasons that couldn't quite be justified. Every time, he had made excuses for not being able to join them, and Evan could sense that he was nervous. He tried to coax him into feeling more comfortable with an idea, but didn't push it too hard since it seemed like something he didn't want.

It was strange, how quiet and reserved Jonathan appeared to be, shying away from social situations whenever he could. It was a stark contrast to how unhinged he usually was around Evan, his words spilling out easily and without any coherent thought. He was, quite honestly a really funny guy, and Evan enjoyed hanging out with him whenever he got the chance. Their time zones were an uncomfortable few hours apart, so it was during the weekends when they really liked to let loose. He enjoyed how comfortable Jonathan seemed to be around him when they spoke, and he enjoyed being so open and honest with someone who may as well have been a stranger. Two friends who kept a lot from one another, yet at the same time, shared many intimate details.

As Evan waited patiently for Jonathan to return, the silence came to him in a subtle, harrowing manner. His fingers twitched lightly as he stared at his screen, watching the game menu with keen eyes. He tried to remain fixated on the graphic, even as his gaze began to wander, his mind floating elsewhere. _'Now's not the time…'_ he smiled to himself, sighing heavily in defeat as he stared directly at his guitar with a steely gaze.

It had been a day or two since he had last played the instrument, having been completely drowned by a sea of schoolwork. Five or six teachers had simultaneously decided to assign some research work, despite the chorus of groans that came from all the students. It was especially bad for Evan, because of all the subjects that he was already taking. Some sacrifices had to be made, and his guitar remained in the corner, a little bit lonelier than usual. Tucked away in the darkness, waiting for its moment to shine. Already, he had a song in his mind, and a small burst of energy to write out some lines. Quietly, he walked up to the instrument and picked it up with one hand. It felt heavier than usual.

Immediately, his eyes flickered back to the screen, a pang of insecurity shooting up his spine. The still image of the game menu was all he could see, overpowering everything else that was displayed. When he sat back on his seat, he placed the instrument on his lap, and kept staring at the light. "Delirious?" he prompted finally, "Are you back?"

Silence persisted for about a minute before Evan had decided that he was satisfied with the lack of an answer. If Jonathan were to come back, he would probably announce his return, loud and proud, before he even entered the room. Maybe Luke had caught him off guard and sent him off to do some errands? Evan knew vaguely of Jonathan's roommate, and it had happened before. On one of the days, Jonathan had been held back for over half an hour to go run to the grocery store to buy some supplies they had been running low on. He had apologised rather profusely when he had eventually come back, with Evan mindlessly scrolling on his phone while he waited. Maybe that had happened again?

Evan hoped that that were the case. Or, he'd at least make it obvious when he got back. His fingers had already begun to fly, bringing to life the song he had in mind. It only took him a second to realise how much he had missed this melody.

_"I was a monster,"_ he smiled. _"You were a saint_ . _"_

_"I know it still hurts, but…_

_No one's to blame."_

He immersed himself in his feelings, and for a moment, he forgot about the world. For that one moment, it was just him and his music. There was no school, no stress, no problems, no anxiety. He was free, with nothing to bind him, or hold him back. Only music.

For that moment, he forgot that he was on call, running the risk of someone coming by. He forgot that someone could be listening.

For that moment, he forgot about Jonathan.

The friend on the other side, silently enjoying that unspoken melody.


	2. A Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shared interests are always fun to have.

The chatter of crowds filled the air in the metro, almost building a comfortable presence in its midst. It was routine, and repetitive. The words too far and few between to understand. It was better this way, the soft murmurs almost singing a lullaby that could easily lull him to sleep.

But it does not. The sharp squeal of brakes being pulled sounds a little too soon for his liking, and the train comes to a stop at his station. School's quite a ways away for Marcel, but he somehow manages under the pressures everyday, and minutes later, he finds himself dragging his feet along the concrete, stepping out and into the colder morning air of the station itself. A breeze pricks at his skin, and it helps to wake him up ever so slightly.

It was always this way in the mornings, with a sea of groggy pedestrians joining him as he walked towards his destination. Maybe someday, he'd move in closer to the school, and more importantly his peers. But for now, an additional hour of sleep deprivation seemed like a worthy sacrifice for all the good times he knew he'd have that day. A pile of unfinished assignments weighed down heavy on his back, but it could barely drag him down. Someday, he'd need to invest some time into finishing all that work, somehow finding a few free hours between school, and friends, and IT. Until then, however, he'd lug that burden around, letting it become a part of his life. A part of _him_.

As the school came into sight, the number of strangers in his path began to dissipate. It was still too early in the morning for anyone _but_ students to be traversing the streets, all congregating into their respective cliques as they began to enter. Having been one of the more social, as well as the sly in the group, Marcel had a good grasp of all his schoolmates' names and faces. More importantly, however, was the air that surrounded them, and the gossip that flew by in the morning breeze. There was conspiracy amongst every group, and a thrill in being caught in the inbetween. Aware, but never involved.

In their midst, a figure stood out, slightly above the rest. His features were rather unremarkable; with short brown hair clipped far too neatly, and a pair of pale blue eyes quietly peering through the crowd. Marcel smiled as he looked over at his friend, his hand rising up to wave. "Scot! Wait up!" His voice picked up in an excited tone, leaving behind the lethargy of the early morning. Scotty paused, then turned around, and smiled, recognition lighting up in his eyes as he stood still, waiting for the other to approach. Marcel did, quickly closing the distance between them within a matter of seconds.

"How was yesterday?" Scotty asked, brow quirked and tone questioning. They'd been given a rather tricky assignment in their after school coding classes, and were still going about setting a time and place to figure it out together.

"The usual." Marcel responded nonchalantly, kicking away a pebble on the pavement. "For all that it's worth, I think I've found a place for us to start."

"Better than nothing, I suppose," Scotty smiled, his expression gentle and reassuring. "I may have gotten a headstart on the process, I was really just messing about with the code. It's a bit of a mess, so I'm sure we'll be able to go back and clean it up."

Marcel only squinted suspiciously in his direction. Scotty had been into coding for a lot longer than he had, and it was no secret that he had gotten really good at it, no matter how hard he tried to humble himself and deny that fact. 'Accidents' like these occurred frequently that there was absolutely no way he wasn't some intellectual genius, or had drained up all the luck in the whole damn world. Marcel didn't mind the arrangement, for Scotty was always able to teach him far better than their instructor ever could, but it always irritated him slightly, how easy he would make it all seem. Even when it was very obviously not the intention.

"You're gonna have to show me how the shit runs. I'm still not used to the program," Marcel stated with a sigh, and Scotty stifled a laugh as he nodded tentatively in response.

The walk towards their respective lockers was uneventful, their conversations quickly descending into a bundle of words most passersby would not comprehend. It was a resounding little chemistry the two had, lost in the world of numbers and code. They'd made a number of silly little mods for their own amusement, sharing them with all of their friends if they were particularly happy with any. And taking commissions on the side had become a valiant pastime for them both. It was wonderful, having someone to share that joy with. And better still when they understood that blabber almost as well as you do.

When the first bell rang, the two parted ways, hastily exchanging their goodbyes. But there was something tense in the air that neither of them had bothered to address.

The lunch table that day was emptier than usual, with everyone else preoccupied by other work. Tyler, for example, was being held back to finish classwork, and would likely be held hostage in the detention room later that day. Brock had been seen with a stack of papers, carrying them about for a teacher. David hadn't even shown up that day, and Brian had rigged a carbonated drink to explode in someone's face during class time, which obviously warranted a punishment of some kind. Needless to say, it was only Marcel and Scotty at the lunch table that afternoon, sitting opposite to one another, fingers hovering over their phones. Tempted to call whoever was left, and get them to hurry up.

"How long do you think we have to wait before we can start eating without being rude?" Scotty asked offhandedly.

"Beats me," Marcel spoke, heaving a sigh. "But I think twenty minutes is where I draw the line."

It was only when they heard the approaching footsteps did they look up, ready to greet a friend. Marcel smiled as he waved over at Evan, who very slowly waved back. His smile darkened as the Canadian came closer, his eyes sinking back ever so slightly in the light. Even as he sat down beside Marcel, carelessly brushing his shoulders against his friend, neither of them were able to take their eyes away from the man. This was not the Evan Fong they were used to.

"Evan? You good?" Marcel prompted quickly, and Evan rubbed his eye with the back of his hand, brushing away the fatigue.

"Yeah. I'm fine, just tired…" he admitted softly with a yawn, which did nothing to ail his friends' concern.

"Evan, have you been sleeping?" Scotty spoke up, being more direct. Realisation dawned upon him, shining ever so slightly in his eyes. "It was just exam week, wasn't it? Is that why we haven't seen you in like a month?" Every term, there were class tests that the students were made to take consecutively, one after another. While it was hard for students like Marcel and Scotty, who both took maths and a good few art subjects, it was absolutely brutal for people like Evan who took almost all the science subjects. 

Evan forced a laugh, almost humoured by the sentiment. "Maybe..?" he murmured, his words so slurred he may as well have been drunk. The scent of caffeine had followed him to the table, and it had become scarily obvious when he spoke. "I promise I'm fine, though," he added quickly, sensing the concern. "It's just two more subjects. I'm sure I'll live."

Marcel drew his lips into a line, almost holding back a visible frown. "Those eyes, Evan," he pointed, staring at the younger with a steely gaze. "Those are the eyes of someone who hasn't been sleeping properly."

"No offense, Evan, but you look like hell right now." Scotty added from the side, facilitating in the discussion but by no means helping the situation. "I know there's a lot of pressure for you to do well, but this is a little bit much, I'd say."

"It's fine, I'm fine…" Evan groaned softly. As he began to dig through his bag to pick up his lunch, Scotty and Marcel exchanged a look, completely helpless as their friend began to waste away before their eyes.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

There was a pride that beamed from the tone of his voice, and Marcel smiled as he stared at the screen. What was once a mess of letters and symbols had turned into a series of functions he could better understand. It was just a simple animation, with an even simpler interface, but it was a new medium, which in turn warranted a whole new language to understand.

"This is amazing!" He exclaimed with a laugh, his eyes meeting Scotty's for the briefest moment. "Oh, I can't wait to make shit go down. We have to make something fun for everyone else!"

"I want to make something broken." Scotty laughed. "I want to annoy our friends. Someday, we should make a game that's a thousand times worse than the most annoying games in existence."

"Make sure to add a disclaimer," Marcel smiled. "Cause I'm not paying for any controllers."

The room was silent, save for their collective laughter. As per usual, the two were the last to leave class, staying back for a few minutes longer as they recollected everything they had already learnt to make something better. Scotty had the keys to the room, so there was no real limit to how much longer they could stay, as long as they locked the door before leaving. The teachers only left in the late evening, after all their work had been done. Extra input was always appreciated, so they weren't doing any harm by lingering for so long.

"If you're done, I think I'm ready to leave." Scotty said, turning to shut off all the other computers in the IT room. Marcel hummed in response, saving the file before shutting down the PC. The equipment was old and weathered, likely used by a few too many people over the years. His own was in his room, new and dismantled, waiting to be put together. Once he got around to assembling the parts, they wouldn't have to stay back for so long after school, for he wouldn't need to finish almost all of his homework assignment during class. The only exception would be whenever they had a group project, which, fortunately, was not too often. Both of them lived too far apart from one another to meet up otherwise, without proper planning.

Scanning the room one final time for any belongings left behind, the pair left the room after making sure all the electronic devices had been properly shut down and switched off. Marcel waited patiently at the side as Scotty locked the door behind them. They walked together as they made their way towards the staff room, dropping the keys on the teacher's desk in the correct cubicle. When they walked back, they crossed paths with Brian and Tyler, who had just gotten out of detention.

"Brian's fucking insane." Tyler commented offhandedly, exasperated but amused. "Apparently, this fucker-"

"Yeah, yeah. We heard." Marcel rolled his eyes. "Anthony was in the class, and he told us about the gag. He almost died laughing by the time I saw him during recess."

"At least someone has a sense of humor." Brian snorted, clearly pleased with himself. It was obvious that the two hours of detention had done nothing to reform his behaviour. In fact, there was word going around that a number of students preferred detention, for it gave them time to actually complete schoolwork. The only trade off was a sense of distrust, and the knowledge that never again will you get away with even the smallest of transgressions. The four of them walked together as they made their way outside of school grounds, and into the heart of the city itself. They'd go out and grab something to drink, before heading back home for the evening.

Considering the time they had spent apart that day, there was a lot to catch up on. And that was always fun to talk about. 


	3. Autumn Winds and Bookstores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another shift at the local bookstore, when a friend shows up to spend some time.

It was a relatively slow day at the bookstore, with only a small crowd of people having visited to see the contents within the shelves, and even fewer stopping to buy any titles. The cafe next door had a little bit more traction, but that wasn't where Brian's shift was today. David was pulling his weight on the other side, helping to collect money to keep them afloat. As two of the only people in their circle who lived alone, it was imperative that they earned a good deal of cash, so that they could spend their allowance elsewhere as well.

The pair were exchange students from Ireland, living off of their own wages as well as some additional money from the school and their parents. While they weren't meant to be earning as of yet, the two had still opted to find some part time jobs to fill in the time, and gain some level of experience while helping the financial situation back at home. The less their families had to spend on them, the more they'd have to spend on themselves. For Brian, maintaining the balance between school and work was a little bit more tedious in comparison to David, given the stream that he had opted to take, and often found himself working in the quieter stores, completing assignments at the job while waiting for customers. It was a wonder how the place hadn't yet been robbed.

The chime of the bell had been embedded into his brain, the soft sounds erupting from the side whenever someone opened the door. He had learnt to pay close attention to it, and knew to react, even when he wasn't looking. Today, however, he wasn't listening. He was on the phone, listening to the words instead while watching the door, and the people passing by the street outside. His seat by the counter had a view of the window, and he had made a game of counting the heads that passed him by. After finishing the last of his homework almost an hour ago, he had taken to studying the figures outside, perking up slightly whenever he saw a person twice.

It was distracting, but it filled in the spaces as he tried to talk to a friend, almost half a world away. With a gentle grip, he held the device firmly against his ear as he listened to what was being said, albeit a little inattentive. They'd been on the phone for a while by then, catching up with everything that had been going on. Neither Brian nor Daniel called too often, but when they did, they didn't hang up for a very, very long time.

As time dragged on, conversations were beginning to dry up a little too quick, and Brian remained fixated on the people outside, almost searching for something interesting to convey. The throngs were small, dressed in thicker, warmer clothes upon the arrival of autumn. A leaf blew past, being carried by a breeze.

"And how's the weather back at home?" He asked abruptly, his thoughts drifting easily with the wind. Daniel took a moment to laugh, before responding without a second thought.

_ "Do you even need to ask?" _

Brian let out a snort. If things were as he remembered them to be, Dublin was likely to be encompassed by a layer of clouds, shrouding the city with a smaug that was difficult to penetrate. Despite how cold it used to be at times, the most they'd ever get was a little bit of rain. When Brian had first landed here, where he was based now, he was absolutely astounded by the colours the sunshine seemed to bring out in the surroundings. And the snow. During their first winter, he and David had played outside with everyone else until they were exhausted, and ended up getting sick, for they were unable to take proper care of themselves in the new environment.

"It doesn't rain so much everywhere, apparently," Brian chuckled. "In fact, it's pretty sunny in the summertime."

"Oh, now you're just rubbing it in." Daniel snickered, and Brian laughed.

"Maybe I am. It's something I could get used to," he smiled, happy and content. "How's Kevin been? Still a murderous little bastard?"

"He is the sole reason I am grateful for the existence of video games." Daniel smiled. "Who knows what would happen if we let that rapscallion out into the real world?"

"Arson, most likely." Brian responded within a heartbeat. 

There were five or so of them within their little circle, having grown up together in their hometown, back in Ireland. Their dynamic was an interesting one, and somehow more chaotic than his current group. If Brian were to ever justify his fun loving, and incredibly destructive nature, it would most likely link back to a history of growing alongside the lads, and having spent just a little too much time with the gremlin they called Kevin.

"And how's the science thing working out for you?" Daniel asked suddenly, and Brian glanced down at his assignments, completed and arranged into a lovely little mess on the counter. It was tiring, but he loved it nonetheless.

"It's going really well, actually." he smiled fondly, quietly collecting all the worksheets. "Physics is easily my strongest subject, which is weird because maths is my weakest." A laugh. "How's the English degree coming along?"

"Pretty good, actually.  _ Can't you tell by my superb vocabulary? _ "

"For fuck's sake, do not speak to me like that ever again!" Brian hollered in response to Daniel's 'gamer voice', and both of them fell into a small fit of laughter. He would not have minded staying like this. Not at all.

The sudden chime of the bell caught his attention immediately, and Brian jerked his head in the direction of the clock. There was still some time before the end of his shift, so this was a customer he'd have to see. "Sorry, Daniel, I'm gonna have to go now." He smiled, his gaze rising to meet the customer. He paused, realising who it was.

"Alright, talk to you later, Brian." Daniel responded from the other side.

"See you later,  _ 'Drift Daddy' _ ," Brian snickered, hanging up the phone in the midst of Daniel's indignant cries. He put the device down and looked up with a sneer, his attention now fully on Brock, who had just entered the shop. "How may I help you?"

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Brock asked, easily bringing out his somewhat sheepish nature. Brian could only smile in response, shaking his head 'no'.

"Not at all. I've still got some time left, I'd be happy to help." It was unlike Brian to be so cordial, but it was no fun being a dick to someone completely unprovoked. "Do you know what you're looking for, or would you like to have a look around?"

"Well, my geography book ran out of pages, and English is cutting it pretty close." Brock shrugged, his attention seemingly elsewhere. "I thought I could do with a few extra notebooks, and maybe some novels for literature."

Brian pointed. "Notebooks are there. We've got fiction on this side, and non fiction on that side. You'll find something if you check it out."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks, dude." Brock smiled gratefully, before turning to head in that direction. Brian kept a watchful eye on him for as long as he could, before he disappeared behind the subsequent bookshelves.

There was no need for him to be attentive or on edge with Brock, for he wasn't going to cause any trouble. But he was, his sight never once wavering from where the man was, or where he expected him to be. Maybe, the renewed enthusiasm had come from a place of joy, relieved to see a familiar face after so long. Maybe, it was just a small spurt of delight from having met a friend. It had been a miserable few days for them all, so it was nice to finally see each other again.

Brock returned a few minutes later, a stack of books at hand. He placed them down on the counter, waiting patiently as Brian reached out to take note of the prices, writing up the receipt. The yellow parchment sank underneath the weight of the pen. Blue ink followed his every stroke.

"So," Brock started, likely glancing around the place. Brian didn't look up, so he couldn't quite tell. "I didn't realise that you worked here."

"A lot of people don't know, actually," Brian smiled. "David and I have to pretend to be slightly older than we really are to be eligible for this, but it's all in good spirit. Not something we really bring up, I guess. Just the concept of work is kinda boring to think about."

"How long have you been working here?" Brock quirked a brow. Brian handed over the receipt, letting him dig through his pockets to find the payment.

"A few weeks. Before that, I was working at the drug store. And before that, a cafe." It had been a while before he had landed on this job, but he was quite satisfied with the outcome. The place was nice and quiet, and unlike people visiting the library, the people coming to the bookstore were quick to leave, having no need to linger any longer after picking out a title. He of course had to stay more vigilant, for these books were not free, and vagrants were abundant in the streets. 

"You said you had a few minutes left, right?" Brock asked, handing the cash. The other took the money with one hand, taking a moment to count the bills. There was a little more than enough.

"Yeah, I did." Brian shrugged, digging the drawers for change. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wanted to know if you'd like to walk home together?" Brock chuckled sheepishly, and Brian glanced over with a start, a little surprised by the proposition. It wasn't really  _ like _ Brock to ask to spend time together, but the Irishman was more than happy to accept.

"I mean, sure. I don't see why not." He smiled, voice a little more indifferent than he had hoped. He took a moment to think, before laughing mischievously. "Does this mean I get to leave Nogla behind?"

"Oh? I mean, we would always wait for him as well-"

"No, he gets out in half an hour. I'd rather walk home with you." Brian chuckled, handing over the change. Brock took the extra money, and put most of it into the donation box right beside the counter. Someone was trying to raise money for a local charity, and it was almost always close to full. For one, it was for a good cause. And there were a surprising amount of people who didn't bother to pocket the change.

It took Brian a few minutes to collect all of his belongings, given how many assignments he had scattered about. He had been there since the end of school, and was still in his uniform, the logo hidden expertly by an overcoat. No one needed to know that he was just a student.

Brock waited patiently outside as Brian closed up shop, carefully locking the front door. If there was a next shift, the person could simply open the lock with a simple combination. It changed frequently, so they'd have to text the owner on the off chance they didn't receive the memo. It wasn't too long before Brian was able to approach Brock with a giddy smile on his face, then walk beside him, heading in the direction of home. Considering the path they were taking now, he would have reached his apartment before Brock did.

Already, the sun had started to sink, and the first streetlights had begun to light up. Though there was darkness in the sky, there was light within the city itself. The pair fell silent for a moment, relaxing in the comforting presence of the other. Brian smiled as he kept up the pace, afraid to fall behind. He wasn't sure what possessed him to agree to walking alone with Brock like this, considering how awkward things could get between them, but he was glad that he did. He enjoyed being with the older man, no matter how much he made it seem like he didn't.

"How have you been taking care of yourself?" Brock asked suddenly, and Brian glanced up in surprise, before fondly rolling his eyes. There was accusation in his tone of voice, and suspicion in his eyes. While the younger would have loved to poke fun at how much of a mother Brock could be, that would by no means have excused all the times he had passed out in school due to the sheer exhaustion mixed with stress; the school nurse knew him well. He practically lived off of extremely caffeinated drinks, and it had been a long time coming since he had been able to lower his dependency.

"Not too bad, actually," he smiled, somewhat proud of how well he had been doing recently. "I've been sleeping a full eight hours- well, a little less, but close enough. And I've been doing my work on time, instead of cramming it all into a single day." 

Brock smiled. "That's good to hear. And a little relieving, honestly. All of you deserve so much better."

There was something in the way he spoke that ushered in a sense of calm. Brian smiled, subconsciously drifting towards the warmth. He liked Brock, always so sweet and tolerant to almost everything thrown his way, even when he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Admittedly, when they had first met, Brock was just a game to Brian, always tempting the older into a fit of rage. It had been fun to break the calm demeanour at first, but it had slowly turned into something he learnt to appreciate. At the end of a bad day, he knew he could turn to Brock for a reliable friend, and good company.

And Brock often turned to Brian as well, if not for moral support, then at least for an escape from reality, and a newer, better perspective. He was an outlet for any built up emotions, and knew exactly who to turn to for a good laugh. Brock had resented Brian at first, given the apparent apathy and malicious intent, but the two got along surprisingly well. It had taken a little bit of working out to put everything together, but they had become friends, and were happier than ever.

And though it remained unspoken, they both knew that they were grateful for that change of pace. By all means, they were better friends than enemies.

Brian's building complex quickly came into view. A cue that it was time for him to leave. As much as he would have loved to spend the evening with Brock, he was tired beyond belief and wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the bed and fall asleep.

"Thank you for walking with me." He smiled up to his friend, and Brock smiled back. The warmth that he radiated could be felt easily even as the distance between then started to grow, with Brian slowly starting to walk away.

"It's no problem. See you tomorrow." Brock waved his hand, and disappeared quickly around the corner. As the two parted ways, Brian stood still for a moment, taking in a deep inhale of breath. He felt relaxed, and with a renewed tranquility, glanced over to where his home would have been. It was just a few flights of stairs before he reached the shared apartment.

The air was still, and cold. A slight chill pricked lightly at his cheeks and fingertips, indicating that winter was clearly on its way. As he walked, he tried to enjoy the stillness of the autumn air, though the calm dissipated entirely within a second. Brian could hear his phone start to ring, and picked it up without a second thought.

"Hello-"

"BRINE! DID YOU FECKING LEAVE ME BEHIND AGAIN?!" All that sounded from the other side of the line was indignant Irish hollering. Brian laughed, relishing the anger that his roommate exuded.

Fuck the calm, this was all he'd ever want.


	4. Major Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan is about to fly away from home. He takes this time to reminisce everything he had gained, and appreciate, one last time, everything he was about to leave behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, it's been a little while. Been busy with exams, hopefully I'll be able to work on other stuff soon. Feel free to leave any suggestions and requests for this AU and fics in general, I'm just going with the flow and having my fun rn

The brisk morning breeze was enough to wake any passersby from the dreary haze of having just woken up. It was early, far too early for anyone to be awake, but they were. Gathering their things, and putting them all into bags, prepared yet ill-equipped to bid their home goodbye. North Carolina was where Jonathan had grown up for a vast majority of his life, valiantly facing every high and low. Life wasn't always the easiest, but he was willing to cope. With dawn came the realisation that he was about to head very, very far away from this place, to somewhere he had never been before. It was finally sinking in; the anxiety, the excitement, the nostalgia. But he was ready to make a new home.

Luke was just in the other room, making sure that nothing was left behind. After a perilous and difficult upbringing, he had ended up being Jonathan's legal guardian for a good portion of his life, before eventually dropping the mantle and becoming friends, if not brothers of a different kind. Neither of them were happy with the move, but Jonathan had been given a seat in one of the best schools in the nation, and he couldn't afford to turn down this golden opportunity. The weeks leading up to now were filled with promises to not forget the other, and call regularly, without fail. By drifting apart, they wouldn't be relinquishing their bonds. Only growing stronger, if that was even possible. 

"I know this sucks, but I'm happy for you. Come back and make us all proud." Luke smiled, a single hand playfully ruffling Jonathan's hair. While the mess it made often annoyed the younger, Jonathan could only lean into the touch, aware that this was his last time in his brother's presence. It would have been months before they were able to meet again, if at all. There was a possibility that something would go wrong, and it scared them both. So they treated this moment like it was their last, leaving behind no room for regret. They stood like that for a moment, before Jonathan came forth for a hug.

The gesture was forward, and direct. Jonathan didn't like physical contact as it often made him anxious, but right now, he couldn't have cared less. All he cared about now was Luke, and the time they had left together. Was it really about to happen so soon? "I'm gonna miss you, man…" he murmured, a few stray tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "I'm gonna miss you so much…"

"I know, Jon…" Luke sighed heavily, wrapping his arms tightly around the younger man. The embrace was warm; warmer than anything either of them could have ever known. "I'm gonna miss you too. Call when you reach, and whenever you need anything at all, okay? And please, take care of your goddamn self out there!"

Jonathan laughed fondly at the concern. They both knew he'd hold his own, but the question was if he could do any better. "Don't worry, Toonz. I'll make sure to call you every night," he promised, tightening his grip some more. "I'll make sure to be just as annoying to you out there as I am out here" he chuckled, and Luke laughed slightly, shaking his head. Neither of them would have minded if things were to remain the same, but they both knew for that to not be the case. The long distances would undoubtedly cause some issues, especially the slight and uncomfortable change in timing, but they would have to manage somehow; there was no other choice.

When the two finally broke away from one another, they began to head outside. Luke led the way, carrying one of the suitcases, while Jonathan followed closely behind, his pace slow and hesitant. The air outside was much colder in comparison to the warmth they shared in the house; it felt unwelcoming. Right outside, near the road, Joe and Mark stood, waiting patiently for their friends. They were dressed warmly, a thick jacket shielding them from the almost blistering cold. When Jonathan stepped outside, they both turned to him with a sigh, aware of what was up. Oh, how he'd miss them too.

There was a small moment of hesitation before Jonathan walked up to his friends, engulfing them both in a shared hug. He could tell that they were surprised, and he could tell that they didn't mind. His fingers were entangled in the folds of their clothes, navigating gently along the ragged fabric in a feeble attempt to get closer. They all knew that this was it. This was goodbye.

"Take care of yourself out there, pal." Mark said, his bellowing voice even louder from this close by. "Don't stress too hard, alright?"

"Fuck, what do I even say?" Joe laughed under his breath, hugging Jonathan even tighter. The two were practically rivals, forever at each other's throats. But at the end of the day, they were still friends, and that rivalry would always come to an end. It just didn't do so very often, and now, it was about to end for good. Plane tickets weren't the cheapest things in the world; who knew when they would see each other again? If, at all. He knew that life was unpredictable; he had seen it first hand. The drifting thoughts made him uncomfortable, and he begged the higher powers to have mercy on their friendship; he couldn't bear the thought of this being their last moment together.

"Damn it. I'm gonna miss you all…" Jonathan laughed, practically cursing under his breath. It felt surreal. When he finally broke away, the ghost of a touch lingered on his body, holding him close. He wasn't ready to let go just yet, but he didn't have a choice. There was only so long that he could stay before he got left behind. It hurt, but he didn't have a choice.

As he waved off his friends, he turned to the car; everything was packed and loaded, waiting only for his arrival. Luke was sitting inside, waiting in the driver's seat. He could barely acknowledge as Jonathan sat inside, quietly pulling his seatbelt into place. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, one more time, in his usual, caring tone. If Jonathan hadn't known any better, he would have thought that they were simply on their way to school, or about to head to the park.  _ 'Make sure you have everything, Delirious. We don't want to make a second trip.' _

"I- I'm ready…" was all Jonathan could manage to say, his breaths heavy and laboured. Luke reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, waiting until he had calmed down before finally starting the car. The journey to the airport would have been tantalisingly slow, yet at the same time, way too fast to cope with. Jonathan wished he could have made up his mind; was he wishing he could stay home with his friends forever, or was he waiting to settle by the west coast, itching to get this over with? He couldn't tell anymore. All he knew for certain was that he didn't like what he was feeling now. The anxiety, the apprehension; all of it was suddenly crashing down.

The passing buildings were but a blur in his eyes, yet he smiled fondly at the feelings it invoked. They passed by the retail store where Jonathan worked his first job, the cafe at which he had been working in until just a few days ago, and the playground where he and Luke used to play when they were kids. A majority of it had been demolished in favour of a building, but it had been fun while it lasted. As they passed his school, he sneered slightly at the structure, and the God awful memories that resided in its walls. The new school was a prestigious one; there would be no room for low life scums like the ones he had been forced to grow up alongside.

"Do you think I'll be able to make any friends?" Jonathan asked suddenly, a new anxiety rising in his chest. He didn't mind the thought of being alone, for he had always enjoyed being on the wayside, finding solace in words and books and videogames. What he didn't like nearly as much was being unable to make any meaningful connections, or worse yet, leaving what he  _ did _ have behind. His relationship with Evan was the only thing that allowed him to hope that he would have been able to stay just as connected with everyone else.

Luke paused briefly, and Jonathan could feel the air turn tense. "You'll make great friends, guaranteed. Especially if you just be yourself. What really matters is what  _ you _ want, okay?" There was a severity in his voice; one filled with a sense of genuine care and concern, mixed precariously with a grave warning. It told him that he would make friends easily, far too easily, but it shouldn't be at his expense. Jonathan had to pause to think about what it entailed. It hurt his head.

The space between them was abuzz with small talk as they went down memory lane; they talked about their first meetings, fondest memories and embarrassing moments. Every so often, the energy in the car dipped as they scraped the surface of something deep and unpleasant. Luke did a good job of avoiding heavy topics, easily swerving Jonathan's attention with a poorly crafted joke. It had always been that way, and now, the years of practise was coming into use at a very crucial moment. When Jonathan flew out that morning, he wouldn't be burdened by the pain of his upbringing. Only motivated by the good he had left behind, and would someday return to.

The airport came into view far too soon for their liking, a story left hanging on its edge. "You should finish it when I come back," Jonathan joked, and Luke smiled as he stepped out of the car. Jonathan followed reluctantly, picking up his belongings before heading into the main building with the elder. A quick look at the time was enough to let him know that he no longer had any left to spend with Luke. When they finally parted ways at the point beyond which only Jonathan could go, the younger was holding back tears, trying desperately to not break down now. There was no turning back, he knew. But it still hurt.

Chatter filled the air as he delved deeper into the building, drifting further and further away from home. While there weren't that many people around, there were still enough to make him nervous. Jonathan wasn't the biggest fan of crowds, often finding himself feeling quite uncomfortable amidst a large mass of people. He much preferred having someone familiar to talk to in situations like these. Quietly, he put on his ear phones as he turned up the music on his phone, trying desperately to drown out all the sounds. He didn't need to interact with any more people than he absolutely needed to. He went through all of the necessary procedures as quickly as he could, before eventually settling in the waiting room, seated alongside a few people. He shot a nervous glance around the room, before opting to distract himself with his phone.

Five hours. He'd have to sit in the plane for five hours. A lot could go wrong in those five hours, but he didn't want to think about that. The only thing worse than this hollow anxiety was the fear of everything that could go downhill; like a crash, or a fire. He had heard of people getting run over by fire trucks even as help arrived. Who was to say that he wouldn't be next?

With a soft groan, he turned the music up some more, letting the sounds drown out his rather intrusive thoughts. The beat of his heart began to follow the rhythm of the songs, so he began to play a few tunes that were more calming. It was frustrating how easily he seemed to fall into his negative, cynical way of thinking, ignoring anything sensible as he fed into the anxiety. He'd need some battery left in the phone to call Luke once he had landed, but there was absolutely no way he would be draining all of it away before actually boarding the plane. He could only guess that he had no more than a few minutes left.

As if on cue, the lights above the exit lit up, and a static picked up from a nearby speaker; the plane had landed safely. With instructions to get ready to hop on board, Jonathan made sure to gather all of his things before heading towards the door. After one last frisking and a punched ticket, he was ready to be on his way.

The sun was high within a clear blue sky, and not a single cloud seemed to obstruct the view. It was bound to be a good day to fly; Jonathan hoped to God that it was a good day to fly. By the time he landed, the plane would be soaring directly into the setting sun. He had awoken from where it had risen, and was about to head towards where it would sink beneath the horizon line. Sunsets on the west coast were notoriously beautiful; he wondered if that was something that would interest him, while he was there. Or if life really was only going to be textbooks, and Luke, and his friends, and Evan.

Evan.

They both knew that they lived in the same country, though the question of where never really emerged. Evan was a few hours behind him, so somewhere in the West.

He liked the thought.

By drifting away from his found family, he was headed closer to his closest friend.

It wasn't much, but it was _something_. Right?


	5. A Deck of Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, silly Drabble based off of the recent UNO videos

The near incessant screaming undoubtedly garnered some shifty glances in their direction. The lunchroom had been quiet, save for a table filled with rowdy teenagers.

"This is broken! This is so fucking broken!"

"That's what I was saying! But none of you listened to me!"

"Guys, rules are rules-"

"Shut up, Evan. Your cock's broken!"

Having finished eating lunch earlier than the rest of the school, the crew had opted to sit together and play a couple rounds of UNO. Brian had arrived with a rulebook that was about as thick as his calculus textbook, and the deck of cards had doubled in size since they had last played. This was a new gamemode; one that only one of them was enjoying.

"How many times has Evan gotten the fucking cock?!" David protested, loud enough for the entire room to hear. The lack of context was probably the scariest part.

"Way too many." Brian agreed, slamming his cards onto the table as Evan threw down yet another +4 -2. "And I keep getting stuck with this Aphrodite bitch!"

"Hey, Aphrodite isn't that bad" Evan tried to diffuse the situation, only to earn a steely glare from everyone at the table. Out of the new set of cards, he could guess that people weren't particularly fond of Athena or Aphrodite. And he could admit, the balancing was pretty unfair, with some of the Gods only being able to skip while others had the potential to empty out half their deck in a single turn. He didn't know why, but this was his third round playing the latter.

"Guys, it's been four turns," Tyler announced, snickering devilishly as Brock groaned loudly in response. Anthony reached out, distributing the 'cursed cards' to the four players. He neglected to hand one to Brian because he was still stuck with the one he had been given the last round.

"Is this game ever going to end?" Scotty laughed from the side, watching as Brock threw down a card and reached out to pick out another. As long as the cursed cards were in their hands, they would need to draw after every turn.

"We're going to be here until the damn bell rings…" Brian muttered, clearly unamused. As luck would have it, he was currently the only person with cards in the double digits. David was next, brandishing nine cards that were about as useless as Tyler's expression would lead the others to believe. He was watching over David's shoulder, using him as a clock for when the next set of cards were to be distributed.

"Evan's gonna win again!" Brock whined as Evan threw down his second to last card, barely calling out UNO before his opponents called him out within a second's notice. The three spectators let it slide, and he faced no consequences for his late callout.

"Quick! Brock! Is there anything you can do?" Brian shouted, leaving Brock fumbling for a response as Tyler counted down, loud and obnoxious. When Brock finally said no, Brian slammed down a +2, mouthing a quiet 'fuck you' to the elder. Brock sighed heavily, picking up an additional two cards. Brian picked up his one.

David didn't even think before he began to draw. "C'mon, give me a +4, give me a +4…" Evan laughed breathlessly as his deck practically doubled in size, the entire table snickering as the Irishman's great plans fell apart right before his eyes. However, the snickering and sneering quickly turned into a loud hurrah as David planted down the +4 he had so desperately desired. Was it worth it? Probably not. Evan feigned annoyance as he picked up his four cards. David picked up his additional one. That made it twenty on the dot.

"What colour, dumbass?" Tyler called out. David faltered.

"Uh- uh- green!"

Scotty snickered. "Good choice." Brian turned to him with a death glare. Someone out there hated his guts. Begrudgingly, he began to draw, pleasantly surprised to place down the first card he had wound up picking.

Brock wasted no time in placing down a skip. David protested loudly in response, as Evan picked up a few more cards to accommodate for the colour he didn't have.

"Damn, where are all the greens at?" He commented absentmindedly, placing down the reverse he had managed to retrieve.

"It's all in Nogla's hand." Anthony commented, laughing as David placed down a pair of twos. They had made a tacit agreement not to reveal another player's cards, but at this point in time, it really didn't seem to matter. Watching from the sidelines was more fun, and Anthony was definitely enjoying this more than he had playing it with Tyler, Scotty and Brian a couple of nights before.

Right now, it was really between Evan and Brock, both brandishing a total of six cards. Brian was creeping back up with his eleven, and David was excluded with his twenty. Still, if this stupid game had taught them anything, it was that no matter the difference in the number of cards, it was  _ always _ anyone's game. David could easily sneak in a victory if Brock and Brian opted to team up on Evan; it had happened before.

"How long before the bell rings?" Scotty asked suddenly, turning to both Anthony and Tyler, gesturing towards his wrist. He wasn't wearing a watch.

"About fifteen minutes…" Tyler hummed absentmindedly, before turning towards the players. "You better hurry this up if you don't want to be late."

The four groaned goodnaturedly, picking up their pace. Brock tossed in another skip, hoping that Evan would be forced to draw. And he was, only to pick up a wildcard immediately.

"Don't make it blue! Don't make it blue!" Brian begged, only to have Evan smirk and yell out "blue!" in a childlike, excited tone. His ability let him throw in two more of the same colour. Brian grimaced visibly, hoping it would have changed by the time it was his turn again. When David got to play, he made sure to skip Evan for the remainder of the round, if only to give Brian some sense of justice. They had made it so far with nothing having broken.

Brock threw in a card; a random, unremarkable card that would have been lost to the pile underneath. When Brian prepared to play, Brock interrupted. "Has it been three turns?"

"Yeah, it has." Tyler laughed, howling even louder as the other three groaned in annoyance. Brock threw in three more cards, calling out an uno afterwards. David's eyes grew wide in horror. Evan seemed amused by the set up. And Brian was absolutely exasperated, like he was ready for the game to end. Scotty definitely knew  _ that _ feeling; this far into the game, everyone won as long as the pain and suffering were to stop.

Brian wound up playing a number. Evan examined his cards once it was his turn, trying to assess what may have been the best course of action in his conundrum. Brock's ability allowed him to throw in  _ all _ of the cards of a given colour every three rounds. Brock had thrown in all of his blue cards, which meant that he had none left.

It was with these thoughts that he placed a skip onto the table.

Not foreseeing a situation in which Brock would have another skip in a different colour.

As he placed down his final card, David slammed down his entire deck onto the table. A good few cards flew right off, Scotty chasing as many as he could before they fell to the ground. "Evan! You rat! You handed that to him!" the Irishman yelled out loud, screaming abuse at the void that was the Canadian's ability to not give a shit about what people had to say about him.

Brock revelled in his victory, and Brian slung an arm around his neck, uncharacteristically not-angry as he murmured his congratulations. "I'm so fucking glad that's over!" he exclaimed, and Brock smiled as he held onto him, rubbing his side. Brian had been given the worst cards every round, it just wasn't his day.

"So," Tyler interjected. "Are we playing another round?"

"No!" Evan, David, Brock and Brian yelled in unison. Scotty brought attention to the time as the bell rang for them to disperse.


	6. Stormy Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's raining. Heavily so. And Evan finds himself caught in the storm. What can he do but wait for it to stop?

The sound of rain crashing against the ground was all that filled the air, ringing painfully against his ears. The sound it produced was almost deafening, the loud splash almost turning onto static in his disgruntled mind. Walking home that day was a terrible, terrible idea. And so was not bothering to hear the weather forecast.

Underneath the overhang of a building, Evan was curled in on himself, his clothes soaked to the last dry thread. His shirt clung onto his body, and he could feel the last of his warmth starting to seep away. He'd been running, as fast as he could, as far as he could, but he couldn't get far enough. He was twenty minutes away from the nearest place he could have even hoped to seek shelter from. Brock's house was too far in the distance, and Tyler's was even farther in that direction. Brian and David's apartment was long behind him by this point, and his house was nowhere in sight. He hadn't a clue where any of the others lived, and even if he did, they were all at Brian's place, digging through the collection of pokemon cards that David had bought impulsively, much to Brian's dismay. Given the circumstances, he was completely stranded. There was nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

He felt cold, his body shivering. He held onto his phone for an ounce of warmth, going through his contacts as he tried to figure out where he could go, who he could turn to. His hands shook, body shivering wildly as he ruffled his hair, trying to dry himself as much as possible. Maybe, he'd collect himself for a minute, before starting to run again. Alternatively, he could wait out the storm in the overhang, hoping no one would notice how he was drenched, shaking himself off like a wet dog. His parents had left for business, and they wouldn't be back for another week. He could have called his friends, but he didn't want to worry them. He didn't want to have them find him, cold and afraid, and he didn't want them to step out during a weather like this.

He wished he'd stayed back, going through their Pokemon Cards despite having no interest nor prior knowledge in that field. Boredom would have been infinitely better than where he was now. If he was sick tomorrow, he would have hated himself for it. Missing school was a death sentence in essence, the catch up work far too tedious for a person to handle. It was one of the ways the school dissuaded students from skipping classes, or worse yet, staying home unless it was something _really_ important. Like a family event, or a life-or-death situation. Evan couldn't have cared less about his own personal health; he had school to worry about. And his parents were going to be very disappointed.

Brian was in his science classes. Brock was in English. And he probably could have depended on Scotty or Marcel for maths. If they got them to send him notes, he could have done them from home.

But, then again, if they were to catch wind of the fact that he was unwell, of course they would try to get him to rest.

The best he could do was hope that he _didn't_ get sick. Looking back at everything he had learnt in maths over the years, he knew that the probability of that was zero. Theoretically impossible. There was no one who could get away with sitting in the middle of a rainstorm with no source of warmth or even a set of dry clothes without getting sick. No one. He was doomed.

In a feeble attempt to draw his mind away from the impending despair, he pulled out his phone. His fingers were itching to dial a number; Brock's, most likely. He was almost like an adoptive father to him by this point, and his contact was always the first to come to mind when he was in trouble. Brock was not a viable option now; he would have been worried beyond belief. None of his friends were a viable option now, they would have never forgiven Evan for getting into this mess.

The second person who came to mind, though; the person he often turned to when he was stressed or in a state of emotional duress. Advice, anxieties, a place to vent to; Jonathan was like a ravine, calmly soaking up all the words Evan had to say, before echoing a few words of comfort and advice of his own. He was in the East, miles upon miles away from him, with no reason to be upset or any means to get out of his way to help him out. As much as Evan hated worrying other people, especially when it was his own fault that he had landed up in the mess to begin with, he was in dire need of someone to talk to; someone to keep him company, and something to do to keep him from passing out on the roadside.

His fingers were stiff, aching as he tried to move them in the direction of his virtual keys. Arching his back slightly, he shielded the little device with his own body.

Vanoss: _hey, you there?_

Delirious: _yeah, I am. What's up?_

Vanoss: _I need a friend…_

Delirious: _I'm listening_

A couple of hours was all he would need, before he was able to do anything else about his dire situation.


	7. Blue Eyed Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new kid in school.
> 
> Someone they're getting to know.

_"Anything fun happen in school today?"_

_"Yeah. A group of obnoxiously loud boys were playing something during lunch. One of them wouldn't shut up about cocks."_

It was in the early evening, the sky fading from blue to orange. Students flooded out of the gates in an eager motion downstream, while a few stayed back to partake in club activities. Showing up once a week was mandatory, but students were always welcome to stay back more often than that. Marcel and Scotty stayed back for coding almost everyday, while David showed up for music only once or twice a week, having other things to do. They knew that he and Brian had work in the evening. And it was easy to tell when Brian had a free day, for he would almost assuredly be in detention for that evening.

The week had just begun, and Tyler was hanging back in the basketball court to throw in a few practice shots. The sports club was one of the most active in the school, with a good number of students participating in almost every available activity, but the fields and courts were left mostly vacant whenever there were no matches inbound. Students had free reign to book the court on the weekends, if only after going through a lengthy procedure to gain access. On school days, however, anyone was allowed to occupy the court if the club itself wasn't practising. And with most of their energies dedicated to the upcoming soccer match, Tyler would have been allowed to play for as long as he pleased, so long as that didn't exceed 6pm, when the teachers would start to head home. He hoped silently that none of the obnoxious players from the higher classes would come to crash his evening.

The passing breeze was cool, helping to freshen his hazy mind. He shot the ball, one more time, smiling proudly to himself as he scored a second basket from the three point line. His captain had told him to play to his strength, which was his height, and as skilled as he was in dribbling, he knew he had been lacking in accuracy. The only shots that ever went in were dunks. With an enhanced accuracy, he'd be unstoppable for the next match.

Footsteps sounded loudly in the still air, suddenly catching Tyler's attention as he rushed over to catch his own rebound. Already, he was ready to leave the court; if it was a senior that was approaching him, he didn't want to waste his energy arguing what may as well have had the conscience of a wooden log. He didn't know what their problem was, but they did not know how to share, and often ragged the juniors with their high and mighty stature, as well as their gruff and brutish nature. If Tyler were to fight them physically, he would have kicked their asses; he had a few years of kickboxing under his belt, not to mention his sheer height. However, he found himself unable to do anything out of respect for the older boys; people who had gone through what he was going through, and at one point or another triumphed over the grade. As much as he hated their guts, he couldn't downplay the single achievement that they had indeed passed this stage of their lives.

That alone deserved an ounce of respect. And while it wasn't very much, it was enough for Tyler to get out of their way without protest.

When he turned to greet the offender, all he saw was a stranger he hadn't seen before; a boy who looked about his age, with strikingly blue eyes. Not many people in the school had blue eyes, and certainly not of that shade. His uniform looked brand new, given the white shirt and the still intact insignia on the left side of his chest. The easiest way to spot a week old uniform was to study how faded that hint of colour was. With the second semester having started not too long ago, it was a valid assumption that he had only just joined the school. There was something odd about the student, maybe in the way his hand was fidgeting slightly at his side, trying not to grab onto something for support. His mannerisms were timid and somewhat nervous, and Tyler felt every ounce of annoyance slip away as a sense of sympathy took its place. He knew what it was like to be the 'new kid', and it was never fun.

"Can I try shooting some baskets as well?" he tried after collecting himself, clearly fixated on his own words for a moment too long. Tyler smiled lightly as he tossed the ball with a complex maneuver from around his back, and the boy caught it easily despite his apparent haze.

Silently, wordlessly, he bounced the ball as he walked into place, positioning himself where free shots were often thrown. He fell backwards ever so slightly, letting the ball fly off his grip. Tyler watched it soar across the open air, eyes wide and surprised as it went into the hoop with an elegant little _swish_. He was yet to decide if that was skill or the greatest stroke of luck he had ever seen from a new player. But, then again, he hadn't a clue for how long the other had been playing. Having caught the rebound, he wasted no time in tossing it back to the blue eyed boy. Again, he caught it with ease.

Tyler watched more intently this time around as the boy rolled his shoulders, seemingly trying to steady himself. His gesture was more relaxed. After a moment of bracing, he shot the ball, mimicking his movements from the first time. The ball flew through the air once again, falling through the net in that elegant, near silent manner. Sharp shooters were by no means uncommon, but Tyler would have been _really_ impressed if the boy was any good at dribbling as well.

"You're a good shot" he commented, trying his hand at courtesy. The stranger smiled.

"Thanks."

His tone was tense; nervous, even. When Tyler caught the ball this time around, he took it for himself, bouncing it all the way to the three point line. By virtue of all the practice he had put into his shots as of late, he scored a basket with ease, the ball not betraying him at this crucial moment. Tyler made sure to beam with pride and as much ego as he could muster in his calm state, causing the other to let out a laugh. It was short, but distinct. The boy rushed over to collect the rebound, walking over to the three point line on the other side and shooting his shot. As expected, it sank right in.

"What's your name?" Tyler finally bothered to ask, walking over to catch the rebound. The other seemed a little surprised, fumbling for a moment too long to figure out an answer to a question that was so deceptively simple.

"Jonathan. It- it's Jonathan."

Numbers. Variables. Functions.

Those were a torrent of words that made absolutely no sense in Brian's disgruntled mind. Algebra was easy, probably one of _the_ easiest subjects in his grade, yet, he was struggling to understand what had been taught in class. More often than not, he depended on Evan for a revision, rephrasing the entire equation to look something more akin to physics; the language he for some reason understood a little bit better. It was a rare occurrence, for he had a good grasp of most concepts, but it was something that did happen every now and then. This was the 'now and then' where being Evan's friend truly paid off. Only, Evan _wasn't_ there that day, and Brian had to will himself to not slam his head against the desk as the bell rang for them to disperse.

As he tried mentally to figure out the equations, quickly realising he _didn't_ comprehend what the function of 'x' was and why it wasn't just a 'y' in disguise, it wasn't long before he tried to turn to one of his classmates for some level of assistance. The people studying mathematics for any reason at all were probably about as flavourful and interesting as sandpaper, but he was willing to take what he could get. And what he got was a hold of a classmate's sleeve. As inertia pulled him backwards, the other looked startled by the force that was holding him back.

"Um, excuse me. Sorry if this is abrupt, but I didn't understand a fucking word of what was said and kinda need an explanation. Would you mind teaching me?" He paused suddenly, taking in the baffled expression of the other. "Or not, I'm not gonna force you or anything, I-"

"No, no, I don't- I don't mind…" the boy responded quietly, and Brian stopped his blabber to heave a sigh of relief. Taking a moment to assess the kind stranger who he had so brashly taken aside to seek help from, he was fairly quick to realise that he hadn't seen him before. The colours of the science students were dull, dark in most cases and grey at best. He had learnt to associate monotone colours with his section of the school. Blue was a new colour, bright and filled with life.

"Awesome. I'm gonna need an in depth explanation of what we were taught today." Brian reiterated, and the other nodded in response.

"Sure. Let's find somewhere to sit, and I'll help you out- as much as I can." Brian didn't want to judge, but he couldn't help but notice how his voice seemed to hitch and stutter every so often, taking a moment to think and rethink every word. Definitely a new student, he decided.

Graced by a short recess in between classes, the pair walked towards one of the desks in the now empty classroom. Brian took out his pencil case, and the classmate laid out his books, flipping the uncharacteristically large pages until he came across what they had learnt that day.

"Right…" he started, "what didn't you understand?"

Brian had to pause. What _did_ he understand?

Sensing the hesitation, the boy opened the textbook, picking out a question from within its pages. "I don't- I'm not very good at explaining, so I think that we should- what we can do is you solve this question, and I'll correct you when you go wrong." The discrepancies in his speech were a little bit worrying, but Brian didn't want to rule him out yet. Which reminded him that he still hadn't gotten a name.

He nodded in response, picking out his pencil and writing as lightly as he could on the stranger's open book. All he did was rephrase the question, before drawing a blank. It's a sad day when you understand more by sleeping through the class than you do actually trying to pay attention. The other student shifted uncomfortably in his seat, reaching out to take the pencil from Brian. Brian let him have it, aware now that there had been a change in plans.

"Do you know what the question is asking?" He asked, looking up at the Irishman. The bright blue orbs were extremely distracting.

"Function of 'x' is equal to x squared plus-"

"N-no, I meant _why_ are we solving this question? What are we going to get out of it?" Brian knew that he would have been very annoyed in this situation had it been the other way around, and began to wonder what the extent of this patience would be. The other boy just looked wildly concerned. "You- you _do_ know what a parabola is, right?" The tone was baffled, almost insulting.

Brian nodded. "A quadratic graph."

"Exactly." A pause. "We're trying to find the coordinates of the parabola; first step is converting the standard form into its factored form, and then finding the zeros. That will be where the line crosses the line- the one that's like-" he drew a graph on the page, tucked out of the way and in the corner, and sketched out the parabola. "We're trying to find these." He stated, circling the points where the graph intersected with the x-axis. It made sense; there were two. Was that why it needed to be factored?

"We know that the information peaks at one point, then starts to drop again. That's why there are two different places where the output becomes zero." Brian nodded, following along. "The other values we need are the vertex and the y-intercept… but we'll burn that bridge when we get to it"

"Is that the right saying?" Brian inquired with a laugh. He wondered for a moment if he meant it though, expecting that the pair would fail to make it to the end. The boy seemed to shrug.

"I'm going to start, stop me if you need any help, alright?"

Brian nodded. "Alright. Thanks for helping me out like this… uh-"

"Jonathan."

"Right." Brian smiled. He was trying his best to be somewhat approachable, not only because he was about to receive help, but also because there was something about the boy that made him confident they could have been friends. "Thanks, Jonathan."

The afternoon classes were always somewhat lazy, the late hour mixed with the fulfilment of lunch always making for a sleepy evening. English was one of the easier subjects, with one of the more lenient teachers, so Brock wasn't surprised to see his entire classroom filled with tired, sleep deprived teens trying in earnest to make up for the rest they hadn't gotten the night before. He himself was not too tired, working away on other assignments he hadn't caught up on, and was hoping to do so now. A few others had the same idea, it seemed, for from the corners of his vision, he sighted biology and chemistry textbooks all around him. It was no surprise that the science students were the most hardworking of the bunch; if English hadn't been a mandatory subject, the art and science students would have never crossed paths, and the two demographics would have appeared to be two separate schools entirely.

Brock knew the strife that was a science student's life; he had seen both Brian and Evan caring notebooks that probably could have been placed as weights in a gym. For as long as he had known either of them, ever since they had joined this school, he made sure to call every night, gently reminding them to go to bed and catch some sleep. He didn't understand why they had picked a field that made them so miserable, but was always somewhat happy for the sense of accomplishment they seemed to radiate after a period of pain and suffering. Looking around the classroom, he couldn't help but feel a little out of his league; the physics and calculus textbooks were probably thrice the size of his history books.

Amidst his moment of sonder, a light tap on the shoulder drew him out of his trance. Brock glanced over to the source of the disturbance, only to find a boy he didn't remember talking to before. He was seated at the desk behind him, a pile of those thick, impossibly heavy and well embossed books laid across his table. One quick look, and Brock could tell that it was the sacred script of a forbidden language he didn't understand; statistics. The graphs were well drawn, though the paper seemed to be on the brink of tearing. "I'm sorry for disturbing you…" the boy started, "but do you know how to spell… anaco- anachronistis- anachro-"

"Anachronistic?" Brock guessed, vaguely aware that one of their essay topics that week was based on the significance of European artefacts to its rich cultural history.

"Yeah. That word." The boy sighed heavily. "I can't do English to save a life. I wish I was doing chemistry or psychology or something else instead."

Brock nodded in understanding. "I get that. Everyone is weak in one subject or another. I'm guessing your kryptonite is English."

"Yeah. I had trouble spelling mountain, once. Still get shit for it today." He said with a laugh, and Brock laughed too.

He watched as the other scribbled out the word while he spelt it out, taking note of the doctor-like handwriting. The teacher would not have been pleased if _that_ was submitted to her, but the students had the liberty of typing out their assignments, if they so chose to do so. The discarded chromebook on the desk assured him that the other probably knew what a mess his handwriting was, too. Definitely a science student, he concluded.

"It's a free period right now, you might have better luck completing English with access to a phone for definitions," Brock advised. "Everyone else is doing other assignments. Don't you have anything else you'd rather complete?"

The boy shook his head. "No, I finished everything yesterday. Didn't have anything else to do."

"Oh." Brock hummed. "Would you like to chat for a bit? I wouldn't recommend doing assignments without a dictionary or thesaurus, you get a good deal of merit from the use of more advanced words."

The boy nodded. "I guess I'm gonna have to invest in those. Would prefer not to take any assignments home, I like talking to my brother in the evenings."

Brock smiled. "I know a good bookstore I can recommend to you."

The other smiled. "I guess I wouldn't mind that. What's your name?"

"It's Brock. What's yours?"

"Jonathan"

"Who was that in English class?" Anthony glanced over as Marcel posed the question to Brock. Throughout the entirety of the period, he, Marcel and Scotty had been sitting towards the side, observing the pair from afar as they conversed. They seemed to be getting on quite fine, and truth be told, they were all somewhat excited by the idea of introducing a new friend to the group. "I don't think I've seen him before. Do you know him?"

"No, I don't." Brock admitted. "He seemed to be having trouble with English, so I was just keeping him company as we waited for class to end." The group walked together as they made their way to the courtyard, congregating for a few minutes before eventually parting ways. David and Brian were falling slightly behind, having other topics to discuss in their own time. Who was taking over which shift, when was the next paycheque, things along those lines.

"Did you get a name?" Anthony asked offhandedly, honestly quite interested in the mysterious stranger. Brock nodded.

"Yeah. His name's Jonathan, and he said he's from North Carolina."

"Jonathan?" Brian's voice cut through the crowd, suddenly tuning in on their conversation. "You mean the blue eyed kid with the speech impediment?"

"Good gosh, is that what he has?" Brock responded in surprise. Brian shrugged in response.

"It's just a rude assumption, but he does stutter a lot." Brian paused, seemingly thinking. "He was in my maths class. Helped me solve some questions a couple days ago. Seems pretty chill."

"That's really strange," David laughed. "Tyler's also made friends with a blue-eyed Jon."

"Now that you mention it…" Anthony muttered, seemingly recollecting something important. "Tyler did mention that he had started playing basketball with someone called Jonathan. Apparently, he's a really impressive shooter."

"Damn, look at us gossiping about some mysterious guy like a group of girls." Scotty laughed. "Blue eyes, good basketball player. Sounds like someone the ladies are gonna swarm."

"I mean, now that people are finally getting over Evan, they need someone new to gush over" Brian snorted, rolling his eyes at the sentiment. Evan was the golden boy of the school, it was nice to see that he was finally getting some rest. The piles of letters and notes left in his locker was always amusing to read, and that was probably the only thing they were going to miss about the whole ordeal.

"How _is_ Evan, by the way?" Anthony asked, feeling the need to bring it up. "I heard he's sick… hasn't come to school in a couple of days?" As they continued to walk, they passed by the front entrance of the school. Marcel and Scotty looked impatient, like they were itching to leave for coding, but they needed to know as well.

"Yeah, he's got it pretty bad." Brock sighed, deciding to be the one to speak. "It was a pretty high fever, I think. He said he's going to show up tomorrow to take some notes, and catch up over the weekend. He won't listen to me when I tell him to rest until he's like, completely fine."

"That dumbass is going to get himself killed, I swear." Marcel sighed, deeply disappointed. All of them were making a mental note to call as soon as they were able to.

It wasn't too long before everyone parted ways, saying their goodbyes. Brian and David had work to get to, Brock said he needed to be home quick that evening, and Scotty and Marcel, inseparable as always, made their way to the IT lab. Anthony himself didn't have much to do that evening; the free English class had been enough for him to complete all his assignments. Seeing as the basketball court wasn't too far away, he made his way there instead, hoping to meet Tyler. They could have probably discussed something like pokemon while shooting baskets together.

He wasn't too surprised to see the new kid, Jonathan, already on the court, shooting his shots from the three point line. Even as he entered the general vicinity, the boy was able to score the basket with relative ease.

"Anthony! Nice seeing you here!" Tyler greeted as soon as he saw him, and Jonathan seemed to turn towards him in surprise. It was easy to tell from a glance that the new kid was shy, his shoulders slumping slightly as he hid behind the significantly taller American. He seemed fairly level with Anthony, if not just a little bit taller.

"I see you've got a friend with you." He commented, waving his hand towards the stranger. 'Blue eyed Jonathan', apparently. His eyes definitely stood out against the crowd. "It's nice to meet you."

Jonathan nodded. "Nice to meet you too."

"Did you need anything?" Tyler asked inquiringly. Anthony simply smiled as he shook his head.

"I'll be honest, I just came to say hi. To both of you." Jonathan shifted uncomfortably on his heels. Tyler seemed to notice, gently ruffling the shooter's hair in a playful manner, earning a yelp and half a laugh as the other flinched away.

"That's Anthony. He's a good guy, there's no need to be afraid of him." Jonathan nodded, seemingly drawing a blank. He was clearly on edge. There were a million things crossing Anthony's mind that could have made the situation worse, for he wasn't too sure how the other would have taken light banter. So, he remained quiet, opting to let Tyler talk instead. 

"Did you hear about Evan?" When the discussions of upcoming games and unending schoolwork finally came to a close, Anthony felt the need to address the issue that had been plaguing his mind for the entirety of that week, and even more so after Brock had mentioned how bad it had gotten. Tyler shook his head absentmindedly, unaware of the verdict. All of them had noticed that Evan was missing, and that in of itself was a worrying concept. Jonathan looked on from the side, bouncing the ball mindlessly, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly when the topic was brought up; Anthony guessed that it was recognition, for he had seen that look many times amongst his peers. But, why Jonathan? Why now? "Brock said he's sick. High fever, apparently."

Tyler opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted immediately. "Oh, didn't he get pneumonia or something? Said he wasn't feeling too well after having to walk in the rain." Jonathan said within a heartbeat, not much thought going into what he was saying. He seemed to miss the wide eyed glance Tyler and Anthony were giving him. "Last I talked to him was on Monday. Said it started to rain halfway back from his friend's place, and he ended up getting drenched for hours with no one to pick him up. Then-" he paused abruptly, practically jumping back with a start as soon as he'd realised he'd been rambling. "S-sorry, wrong Evan, probably-" he stammered, tossing the ball towards Tyler. "I should- I should probably get going-"

Shuffling on his heels once again, he disappeared out of sight before Anthony and Tyler had even thought to react. They stared in the distance, following the ghost of where Jonathan should have been, the gears in their heads starting to turn at full speed. The sun had sunken further into the horizon line, and it wouldn't have been long before school closed; maybe something urgent had come up. They tried not to think about what he had said, for it may have been an unlikely coincidence, but that was until one of them started to speak.

"Anthony…" Tyler murmured, slow and cautious. "We went to Brian and Nogla's place to open pokemon cards on Sunday, didn't we?"

"We did." Anthony reaffirmed. All of them had been there. _All_ of them. "And Evan said he was going to walk home because his parents weren't in town."

"Right. And it rained that afternoon, correct?" To that, Anthony nodded.

"Brock even said he hoped Evan would make it home in that stormy weather." He added further. As everything fell into place, things started to make even less sense. There were far too many things at play for there to be two different Evans suffering in the exact same manner.

"This means two things;" Tyler said, trying to piece it all together. "One, Evan nearly died and hasn't told us. Two, Jonathan knows Evan, somehow."

Anthony nodded, once again looking on in the direction Jonathan had run off in. He was the new kid, someone they hadn't seen before. Yet, he seemed to have the best grasp of what was up with Evan. Somehow, he knew Evan better than they did. It brought up a single question, one that piqued their curiosity even further.

_Who was that guy?_


End file.
